


Twin Sun Respite

by tenuous_pteradatyl



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Camping, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Cooking, Desert, Domestic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Face Reveal, Feelings, Fights, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Forehead Touching, Gangsters, Grief/Mourning, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Light Angst, Loneliness, Longing, M/M, Massage, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Neck Kissing, Non-Graphic Violence, Pining, Post-Season/Series 02, Promises, Reunions, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Small Towns, Some Humor, Teasing, Touching, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29553585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenuous_pteradatyl/pseuds/tenuous_pteradatyl
Summary: It’s only been several weeks since Cobb and the Mandalorian parted ways and things haven’t gotten any easier. Between constant threats to the town and his own feelings, Cobb is having a hard time adjusting. It’s only when Mando returns, without the child in his arms, that he thinks he might not be the only one in need of some care.Sequel to Twin Sun Interlude.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	Twin Sun Respite

**Author's Note:**

> After finishing Twin Sun Interlude I realized I wanted to bring my boys back together so this is the result.

He was growing complacent. That was the first thing that came to mind as Cobb fell on the couch, bloodied and bruised for the third time today. He felt the previous week’s aches and pains resurface with frightening clarity as he let out a groan and willed himself to get up long enough to grab the bacta spray and bandages. And then he told himself fervently, and with almost vicious desperation, that he could stay there as long as he wanted to. Sleep as long as he needed to, wash the dried blood and grit from his skin, and finally swallow down a decent meal. But he knew it wasn’t likely to happen. 

The town was under pressure. It had been for weeks, soon to be a month. And though he didn’t know the exact reason behind the sudden surge in raiders, and the constant threat to the townsfolk, he had already made some well-educated guesses as to why it was happening. It had started not long after Mando had left with his armor. With each passing day he had seen a gradual uptick in the number of raiders passing through, drifters who wanted more than just a quiet drink at the cantina, and thugs who were more interested in causing a stir as opposed to simply hauling away whatever scrap they could. It made sense, with his armor gone not only had he lost his protection but he had also lost a good chunk of his reputation. Before people had always thought twice about coming after the marshal in the acid-washed Mandalorian armor. Now, though, he was just a man, flesh and bone. And flesh could be cut, and bones could be broken. And he knew that truth more than ever these days. He was still a good shot, able to throw down with the best of them, but it had been easier with the armor. He was beginning to think that a good portion of his fighting prowess had been wrapped up in it. It had acted like a talisman, a good luck charm, allowing him to get out of scrapes and situations that at first glance had seemed like impossible feats. Without it he felt listless, slower somehow. Perhaps he had relied on it too heavily. Gotten too used to taking every hit when he should’ve been dodging, should’ve been playing the game a little smarter. With the armor, his victory had been an afterthought. Now taking down one thug was proving to be an issue, and he knew he would have to adapt quickly or he wasn’t going to last much longer. 

Though he would be selfish to think he was the only one suffering under the weight of the daily raids and the perpetual threat of violence. Mos Pelgo was also feeling the strain. Everyone was on edge, he could feel it in the air, see it in their eyes. As always they looked to him to keep them safe and he would, just as he always had. But considering everything he was beginning to think that the task had become too difficult without the armor. And with thoughts of the armor, there also came thoughts of the man who currently had it. The one who had fought alongside him, who had charmed him with his bravery as much as his uncertainty in the face of their feelings, and the one he had watched walk away into the night with his child in tow.

Swiftly, and nearly without warning, the Mandalorian had easily found his way into his heart, and it seemed that he had firmly lodged himself there. Any time he saw a flash of light, or a glint of something out on the horizon he swore it was Mando, fine as ever and clad all in beskar, finally coming back to him. There were days he could still feel the warmth of his fingers trailing along the back of his neck, hear the low tones of his voice echo in the empty spaces of his house. There were even mornings where If he concentrated hard enough he swore he could feel the faintest trace of warmth lingering along the creases and folds of the sheets. As if only moments before Mando had been there sleeping next to him, and had only left the bed long enough to go fetch something for his kid. 

He had spent too much of his time that way. Letting his mind linger on their night together, on the feel of his fingers as they almost cautiously traversed along the curves and planes of his body, on how life might be when he finally returned from his long journey. And with those same daydreams came the persistent desire to get him back. To travel the distance to Mos Eisley, find the best ship he could afford on his meager credits, and chase after him. He realized how foolish a notion that was, knew all the ways it wouldn’t work. But it still didn’t stop him from actually making several trips out to the infamous spaceport in search of ships with a reliable crew. It was only after the third trip where he had actually stuffed his pockets with a handful of credits because the loneliness had become nearly unendurable, that the trouble with the raiders had really begun. And quickly all thoughts of Mando and their supposed future together had to be sidelined in favor of trying to stay alive. But even when the threat had been dealt with, and he had trudged back to his house sore and alone, he couldn’t help but think of how much better things would be if Mando were here. If he was fighting alongside him, if he were here to help dress his wounds at the end of a long day. Thoughts like those kept coming and though he tried to stay engaged in his duties and find some kind of contentment in his work he kept coming up empty each time. And he was only growing increasingly resentful of the fact that there didn’t seem to be an easy fix to this feeling. This feeling which he was beginning to believe could only be synonymous with heartbreak. 

Cobb ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a hard breath before grinding his teeth and willing himself to get off the couch. He did so several minutes later than he would’ve liked, standing up on unsteady legs and putting his hands on his hips for a moment as he let his various aches and pains settle to something more manageable. He sighed before making the seemingly long walk to the refresher, turning the lights on as he went. The house was only marginally cleaner than when Mando had left, which truly wasn’t saying much. He had gotten the couch cleaned and patched up, had endeavored to keep all unwashed dishes off the table and in the sink, swept the floors on a daily basis, and had cleared the broken pottery off the shelves. He had even bought a nice selection of clothes and had purchased a few new blankets to replace the threadbare ones for the still too-small bed. Though it still wasn’t what one would call cozy, and even with those minor improvements he wasn’t inclined to stay for longer than he needed to. Lest thoughts of Mando creep in on him again and he would no longer allow responsibility and guilt to drive him away from the ship he had been previously eyeing.

He finally reached the refresher with a groan, hastily grabbing the bacta spray and bandages before walking jerkily back to the living room. He fell hard on the couch, groaning again as he opened his shirt and saw the already purpling bruises that ran along his chest and stomach. He opened the package of bandages with his teeth as he sprayed his stomach and chest several times before taping up the cuts and nicks that crisscrossed over his hands and knuckles. He was beginning to think the thugs who ran through town lately were more interested in beating him down than any credits or scrap they could get away with. Too many shootouts had ultimately been decided with fists. He cut off that line of thought as he finished spraying what he could easily reach and taping up what he couldn’t. When he was done he couldn’t say he was feeling any better. He was still tired, sore, and felt more than a little dejected. He let out a weary sigh before throwing his legs over the couch and finally laying down. He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander, trying desperately to will himself to fall asleep so his thoughts wouldn’t be inevitably pulled back to Mando. Though it didn’t seem to be working as he thought about where he might be. If he was traversing the stars in his ship, his child closeby, or if he was walking the steaming jungles or burning sands of some unknown and imagined planet. 

He opened his eyes briefly, staring out the window and at the multitude of stars that had just now begun to dot the sky. That same sense of longing came over him as he watched as several more clusters of stars slowly came into view. Although now the reason behind that yearning was entirely different than the motives of his youth, but nonetheless just as enduring. He sat up for a moment, propping himself up against the arm of the couch and rubbing the back of his neck with the promise that he would shower later after he got some sleep. He thought about his scarf, if it was still tightly wrapped around the Mandalorian’s arm. He wondered if he ever looked at it at the end of a long day, if Mando often thought about him. And if he did, where did those thoughts lead? Did they take him to the same place he had often imagined? The two of them back together, eking out some life for themselves on Tatooine or any planet of their choosing. Putting the little one to bed before they made the short journey to their own, and he could finally kiss and revel in every inch of that skin he had only just begun to discover. He rubbed his hand down his face, cutting his thoughts short, too tired to see where they might lead him. Though he had some idea as he felt his face warm at the thought of Mando in his bed. His armor neatly set aside and his body laid out on the sheets, reciprocating every touch, matching his passion just as well as he had all those weeks ago.

He let his head lull back against the arm of the couch, tempted to go against his earlier decision and really allow himself to indulge in those feelings, to ride out his desires, get some relief. But he thought better of it. There was too much going on and he needed to be ready for the next inevitable threat. And perhaps more than anything he needed to sleep. So with that thought firmly in his head, he let loose a long and weary sigh and ignored the sudden stab of pain as he rolled over onto his side and finally drifted off to sleep to the thought of a low voice, soft skin, and cool beskar.

When Cobb woke the following morning the suns were already high in the sky and he was happy to note that a good deal of his pain had subsided. He propped himself up, peering out the window to see that the townsfolk seemed to be well into their work for the day. And he realized that he better get out of bed before someone came knocking to inquire as to why he wasn’t already up and doing his job. He rolled over and got to his feet, feeling only slightly light-headed as he did so before quickly making his way down the hall and to the refresher. He spared himself only a passing glance in the mirror before turning on the water and splashing his face a few times and flicking any stray droplets from his fingers before stepping into the shower. He didn’t spend long there, only allowing himself enough time to do a quick pass over his body with soap and the last remnant of the warm water before he stepped out, dried off, and trudged to the bedroom. He knelt down by the crate next to his bed and opened it, his eyes lingering over the small collection of shirts he had suddenly amassed before he picked one that was just as dark as Mando’s flight suit. He pulled it on, not allowing himself to contemplate that choice for very long before he silently made his way to the kitchen. He brewed some caff, made a quick breakfast, and hurriedly ate with his eyes trained on the road and the small congregation that had formed there.

He threw the dishes in the sink, perhaps a mite too hard if the sound of shattering flatware was any indication, and made his way outside and onto the road. There was a group of his neighbors all huddled together by a dented and dust-covered vaporator and talking in hushed frantic tones. When he walked up they all turned and immediately ran towards him, their words all running into each other until it was nothing more than a panicked garble. “Hold on”, he said, holding up a hand and the noise quickly ceased, “What’s the problem?”

Everyone suddenly looked to be at a loss for words, their eyes turning to each other to supply him with some semblance of an answer. Myla was the first to speak up, her grey eyes red from worry and wringing her weathered hands together. “It’s the mining crew”, she explained “They were camped out by mine seven to oversee its reconstruction but they should’ve been back by now.”

Cobb nodded, that mine was a notorious problem, it had already caved in several times, taking out pack animals, their rigs, and miners alike. He had always thought they should’ve just abandoned it, filled it in, and built a new mine elsewhere. But a lot of the old-timers had been adamant about keeping it open, claiming they could fix it up, keep it safe. He was only obliged to let them because despite all its problems they had always had good luck with it, pulling up countless filled carts in a single day. Now though he was beginning to see what an issue it really was. “Anybody been able to reach them over the comm?”, he asked, already preparing himself to ride out there and see what was going on.

“No, no one has been in contact with them since last night”, Jado said, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck, “We can’t even get a signal back.”

“Maybe there was a cave in”, Jo supplied.

“It wouldn’t be the first time”, Jado said looking frustrated, “I told those nerf herders it was a bad idea to keep that mine open.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything when they brought it up at the last town meeting?”, Myla asked, the first notes of anger slipping into her voice as she pointed her finger at him. 

“I didn’t see you bringing up any concerns with their plans either”, Jado said, bending down so that they were eye level.

“Hey!”, Cobb said, putting his hand up again to halt the oncoming argument. “We all know that mine has been trouble for years. And if it’s anyone’s fault it’s mine for not closing it down sooner. Now I’m gonna head out there and see what the problem is. I’ll comm ‘ya if anything turns up”, he said as he made his way over to his speeder and quickly got on. They all nodded, wishing him luck and a safe trip before he sped out of town and off into the desert.

He rode for several long minutes, passing dunes and jagged weathered stones before he came upon the mine. He cursed as soon as he spotted it, his eyes roving over the rock and sand blocking the entrance. He got off his speeder, looking around to see if there were any members of the mining crew that were perhaps waiting outside for help. He didn’t spot anyone, save for the remnants of a spent campfire, what looked to be one of their tents neatly folded, their speeders, and the remainder of what looked to be their meal from the previous night. He walked closer to the mine, his ears picking up on what sounded like muffled cries for help. “Hey!”, he called out as loud as he could, “Hold on! I’m getting help!”, he said as he pulled the comm out of his pocket. Though as he did he noticed something, nestled there in between two large stones was a commlink. It was old and looked worn with age but as he picked it up he realized that’s where the buzzing and muffled calls for help were coming from. He threw it down, frustrated and disgusted with the deception, and began to stalk back to his speeder. But just as he did his foot bumped into something, something soft but in a completely different way than sand. He looked down to see something sticking out of the dune. He dropped his commlink, kneeling down onto his haunches, and brushed away pebbles and silt until he saw that there, buried in the sand, was a pale and ringless hand. He nearly jumped back to his feet at the sight of it before he collected himself and lurched forward onto his knees, pushing back as much sand as quickly as he could, only to reveal the body of one of the mining crew, dead. He got to his feet then, feeling sick to his stomach as he noticed the other small dunes that laid right in front of the mine's entrance, eight in total, and now that he looked closer, all of them obviously hiding a body. Cobb cursed loudly as he quickly drew his blaster, looking around for any signs of the scum who killed and buried his people in these shallow graves.

He didn’t have to look long because right as he began to move closer to his speeder to conduct a more thorough search of the area he was stopped by a blaster bolt right at his feet. He jumped back, as several more followed in its wake, he turned as quickly as he could and ran back towards the mine. Though it seemed that he wasn’t fast enough as one of the shots hit him in the back of the leg. He fell to the ground, just managing to roll out of the way and behind a rock. He propped himself against it, breathing hard as he held his leg, trying to will away the pain. Just then he heard the sound of several speeders approaching, he peered around his temporary cover and saw a cloud of dust billowing over the sand, and from it came a short line of speeder bikes that drove up close and stopped just shy of the ruined camp. He cursed again, considering trying to make a run for it and get back to his speeder and get the hell out of here. He didn’t think it was likely to happen though, especially with his leg injured and several guys on his trail. He didn’t get to think on a backup plan for very long before he heard one of the speeder engines die out and a voice he didn’t recognize began to speak. “Come on out marshal. Hands up, nice an’ easy.”

He cursed under his breath as he got to his feet, not without some difficulty, and limped around his hiding spot only to see seven men on speeder bikes staring him down. He couldn’t say he recognized any of them, they all had that same look to them, thugs who were more interested in looking tough and swindling credits than actually developing any real fighting skills. Still, he wasn’t about to chance anything, not when he didn’t have to. And it seemed that they were more content to simply keep glaring at him as if that would somehow scare him into submission. The man in the middle of the line, a short but well-muscled looking individual with tightly cropped hair and a slightly manic look in his eyes, came forward, his blaster in hand. When he spoke again he gave Cobb a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes before taking several steps forward. “How are you holding up marshal?”, he asked.

“Could be worse”, Cobb replied, the first notes of anger coloring his tone as he desperately tried to think of any way that he could get to his speeder.

The man’s smile only broadened as he raised his blaster, aiming straight for Cobb’s chest. “Well, let’s see if we can change that.”

As soon as the words left his lips Cobb had already dropped to the ground right as the shot sailed over his head. He threw his arm out, blasting the man in the leg and another thug right in the head before the manic-eyed man was shouting out orders and the rest of his cronies came surging towards him on their speeders. Cobb rolled to his feet, just managing to dive out of the way as two thugs tried to clothesline him and another just barely missed him. He scrambled to his feet, twisting around and landing one more hit on another thug right as he felt another bolt graze his arm. He ground his teeth through the pain, clamoring onto his speeder and revving it to life. He heard the angered shouts and a volley of orders being yelled out as he sped off back in the direction of the town. He considered leading them off somewhere else, bypassing Mos Pelgo altogether and leading them towards the Tuskens, who, true to their word, had helped them on several occasions after their victory against the krayt dragon. But before he could think further on asking for their help he was stopped by the most mundane trap imaginable, a simple tripwire. He was sent flying forward off his speeder, just narrowly missing an outcropping of rock. He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him as he rolled and came to rest on top of a dune, his blaster lying useless several feet away. He rolled over onto his back, coughing as all previously cured pains seemed to resurface. He heard speeders quickly approaching and just managed to haul himself to his feet and stumble over to his blaster. 

He had just picked it up when he saw that four speeder bikes had already surrounded him, though he noticed the man with the manic eyes was conspicuously absent, and what was left of his speeder was currently laying half-wrecked and smoldering in the sand. He swiftly raised his hand and before any of his pursuers could react he had shot one of them square in the chest. As they were going for their blasters he tried to line up another shot but right as he had picked his next target he felt a shot hit his shoulder from behind. His knees hit the ground, his arm useless at his side as he turned his head to see the same man with the crazed eyes get off his speeder and walk forward. He didn’t say anything as he slowly walked over and settled in front of him before stepping as hard as he could right on his wrist. Cobb let out a grunt of pain as he felt his skin pinch and the bones grind and without thinking his good hand shot out and punched the man right between the legs. The other man staggered back, letting out a pained shout as he did so and then an angered growl as he seemed to quickly recover from the pain. Because in the next instant he had lurched forward and backhanded him with his blaster and quickly, thankfully, everything went dark.

\--------

When Cobb finally awoke it was to a lulling sense of movement and the sound of muffled voices speaking to each other. He ground his teeth, silently taking note of the various aches and pains throughout his body, and the taste of blood and sand in his mouth. He opened his eyes, the pounding in his head only seemed to intensify as he looked around his surroundings. He appeared to be in the cargo hold of some kind of transport if the numerous crates were any indication. He squinted at one of the boxes closest to him, just barely making out the Red Key Raiders insignia in the dim light of the cargo hold. He cursed under his breath, of course, those crooks would pick him up and haul him off to who knows where. He tried to get to his feet but found himself quickly stopped, he looked behind him to see that he was chained to the wall of the transport with only two feet of slack to work with. He also saw that his blaster was missing from its place in its holster and wherever it was it wasn’t close enough for him to see it. He let out a sigh, frustrated and angry that he had lost the mining crew, that he hadn’t been faster, that he was in this situation with little to no hope of getting out of it unscathed. He tried to strain to listen to the two voices speaking, see if he could glean any information about where they were headed but he could barely hear them. Though he had some hunch as to where they were going, and that was straight to the Red Key’s hideout, probably right to their boss for some payback over their last scuffle. He leaned forward, his forehead meeting the cool metal of the transport’s floor. It was soothing in an odd way, it made him think of the last time he had felt cool metal against his forehead, against feverish skin.

His thoughts trailed back to the Mandalorian, to gleaming beskar, and the low rasp of his voice. Absently, he wondered what he would say if he saw him in this situation. Probably nothing, he thought with some misplaced humor, the man was not especially talkative though that had never bothered him. He didn’t need to speak to get his message across, to convey his feelings. But when he did speak he found himself transfixed, even with the terse and simple phrases he used. He closed his eyes, if he were here he would probably simply sigh and help him out of this place, perhaps chide him for not being more cautious. He settled himself more firmly on his knees and tried to pull himself free, his wrist suddenly exploding with pain. He nearly let out a shout as he remembered that maniac stepping on his wrist and he thought perhaps he wasn’t going to get far with this plan. It appeared he was stuck for the moment. He could always try to make a break for it once they reached their destination. Though he doubted he would make it far before he was caught again. And then the frightening thought came that he might not get out of this. He might never see Mos Pelgo again. He might never see Mando again. And that thought stung worse than any of the others. He didn't even know his name, or what he looked like beneath the helmet. Or how his face changed when he was readying himself for battle or how he looked when he was content. He wished he knew, he wanted to know. He had wanted to know so many things about him. His likes, his dislikes, what led him down this path, his desires and dreams for the future. He opened his eyes, the pain in his wrist still very present but less so, the intensity of it providing him with clarity. The thought that he might never get the chance to discover any of those things didn't sit right with him. And he decided with a renewed fervor that the minute the transport stopped and they came for him he would fight as hard as he had to, just as long as he made it out of here. He was going to see Mando again. He was going to make it back to Mos Pelgo. He wasn't going to die out here amongst his enemies, facedown in the sand.

Just then the transport violently shook and he was sent flying as far as his chains would permit. He felt pain shoot up from his wrists and settle in his arms as he was wrenched forward and then fell back against the wall. He managed to steady himself right as the transport rocked again, although less forcefully this time and he wondered absently if one of the many creatures of the desert had ambushed them. Or perhaps it was another group of thugs that had spotted the transport and had seen an easy opportunity for quick treasure or spare parts. Whatever the reason for their abrupt stop he could hear frantic shouting from the front of the transport followed by what sounded like panicked blaster fire. Then he heard the sound of blaster fire suddenly cease, followed by a grunt, a groan, a thud, and then silence. Within the next minute, he heard footsteps quickly approaching and he steeled himself for what he thought had to be another fight. The door of the cargo hold swung open and Cobb felt as if all the breath had suddenly been punched out of him. Standing in the doorway, shining like a beacon in the dim light of the cargo hold, was Mando. 

Cobb was at a complete loss for words as Mando silently stepped forward, holstering his blaster as he came over to him, and Cobb noticed with some pride that his handkerchief was still firmly tied around his arm. “Are you ok?”, Mando asked, and Cobb suddenly felt saturated with an intense warmth, one that was far more pleasant than standing underneath the twin suns, or coming into the house and away from the chill of the desert at night. He felt like a piece of him that had been missing all this time had finally been returned, like he was finally home. And he wanted nothing more than to tell Mando all of that, but his head was too full, his mouth too dry to express all the things he had been yearning to say since he left. So he merely nodded as the Mandalorian stared at him for a moment before he engaged his flamethrower and easily melted his chains and removed his shackles. Cobb felt a momentary lapse of judgment with the other man so close and was sorely tempted to reach out and take him into his arms, but thought better of it. There would be time for that later he told himself. Instead, he was just barely able to rise to his feet, and he stood there for a moment, leaned up against the wall, trying to breathe through the pain. “Can you walk?”, Mando asked, his hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

Cobb met his gaze before he attempted to take a step forward and then immediately proceeded to fall. But before he could hit the floor Mando had caught him, just as effortlessly as he had all those weeks ago. He grit his teeth, leaning heavily on the Mandalorian for support, “Guess not”, he said, with a rueful smile on his face.

Mando considered him for a moment, his t-visor pointed down at him as if he were really taking stock of him now. Cobb wondered what he was seeing. Was he seeing the same man who had enticed him to dance, who had fought with him on the ground as well as in the air? Or was he looking down on a broken man, someone who was just barely holding it together? That’s how he felt now, perhaps for longer than he cared to admit. But Mando said nothing, he merely stooped down and scooped Cobb up and into his arms. He let out a groan as he did so, earlier pains making themselves known as Mando gently shifted him closer. “Sorry”, he said before he began to walk them through the cargo hold and into the main part of the transport. Both of the men he had heard earlier were dead, their bodies slumped over in their seats. One of them looked to be part of the group of thugs who had ambushed him earlier while the other he didn’t recognize. But he did spot his blaster in the dead man’s holster and moved just enough so that he easily took it off of him. As he placed his blaster back in its holster he looked up to see that the door of the transport was completely off its hinges, it was now nothing more than a piece of twisted and smoldering shrapnel. It seemed Mando hadn’t been messing around. As they made their way outside Cobb squinted his eyes against the harsh light of midday. When his eyes were finally adjusted he noticed that they were in the middle of a completely desolate sand field, he didn't even see any ridges nor rocks in the distance. But he did see Mando’s speeder bike parked close by with a small pack attached to the rear. Though he quickly took note of the fact that the child was not present but he supposed he had probably found a safe place for him to stay while he traveled out this far. He didn't think to ask questions as Mando carried him over and placed him on the back of the speeder, he held his side, gritting his teeth against the pain. Mando watched him for a moment before stepping forward and placing a gloved hand on the side of his neck. Cobb leaned into it and for a moment his pain was forgotten as he let himself become reacquainted with Mando’s warm grounding presence. Mando didn’t linger long before he was getting on the bike and told him, “Hang on.” 

Cobb quickly did as he was told, throwing his aching arms around Mando’s waist without a second thought. Mando stiffened for the briefest of moments before quickly relaxing and revving the bike's engine. In the next moment, he had turned the bike around and they were speeding off towards the horizon. They rode in silence for several minutes before Cobb spoke again, compelled by his growing concern over the town. “How far out are we?”

“About a day's ride”, Mando answered. 

“What brought you out this far?”, Cobb asked. 

There was a pause before Mando replied, “You know what.” 

“I’d still like to hear you say it.” 

The Mandalorian turned his head to briefly glance at him. Cobb, despite the pain, managed to shoot him a lopsided smile and a short shrug of his shoulders before Mando turned his focus back to their course. “My ship was in need of repairs. When I arrived in Mos Pelgo I saw your house was empty and the town was occupied.” 

“Dammit, I’m gone for less than a day and they move right back in.” 

“You know them?” 

“The Red Key Raiders. They’re the ones who took over last time.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense”, Mando said, though he didn’t elaborate. 

Cobb frowned but didn’t question him about it further. “How did you find out where I was?” 

“I interrogated some of them”, Mando replied, and Cobb took that to mean that he threatened them. Though he couldn’t say he was shedding any tears over it. “They said they were taking you to their boss.” 

“Sounds about right. Last time I had a run-in with ‘em I carved up a message into one of their guys.” 

“That was a bold move.”

“That was the point. I didn't want them trying anything.” 

“I guess they didn't get the message”, Mando said, with something like a sigh in his voice. 

“Guess not”, Cobb said with a grim smile. They rode on for several more minutes before Cobb finally allowed himself a moment to relax. He leaned his forehead against Mando’s back, fatigue from the past few hours finally settling over him as his hold on him only tightened. Mando didn’t stiffen again, he merely remained still as they continued their journey over the dunes and past half-buried boneyards. Cobb’s eyes slipped closed, endless stretches of sun-drenched sand and rock formations seemingly only tiring him out further. He let out a long and weary sigh as he felt close to nodding off and he willed himself to hold onto the Mandalorian a little tighter. “Thanks for coming to get me. Hope it wasn’t too much trouble”, he said with something like a chuckle in his voice.

Mando didn’t comment on his ill-timed humor, he merely remained silent for a moment longer before he said quietly, “It was my pleasure.”

\-------

Cobb quickly realized he must've fallen asleep after that short exchange. Because the next time he opened his eyes the suns were already low in the sky and the air was just beginning to pick up that characteristic and pervasive chill that heralded the coming of night. He sat up a little straighter, his arms still around Mando as he surveyed their surroundings, but failed to see anything that looked familiar. “How close to the town are we?”, he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep. 

“Not close enough”, Mando replied, “We’re going to have set up camp for the night.” WIth that, the Mandalorian eased up on the speed and they finally came to a halt in the middle of a sand field, right next to a large outcropping of rocks and what looked to be the scattered remains of a bantha skeleton. He let go of Mando with some reluctance as the other man got off the bike and retrieved his pack. “You rest, I’m going to get a fire going”, Mando said as Cobb just managed to get out of his seat and put his feet on the ground. 

He placed his hands on his hips, taking a deep breath as he tried to steady himself, and turned his attention to the Mandalorian who was currently kneeling in the sand, pulling supplies out of his bag. “Need a hand?”, he asked. 

“No”, Mando said, his tone a touch stern, and then he paused his pursuit of the fire and focused his attention on Cobb and his voice instantly gentled, “You were very kind the last time I was here. Let me return the favor.”

Cobb felt his face warm at his words, the chill that had just begun to seep into his bones momentarily forgotten. “Hard to argue with that”, he said, dropping down onto the sand as a groan escaped his lips. 

Mando contemplated him for a moment before turning back to his pack and producing some bacta spray and a roll of bandages. Mando walked over to where he was sitting, kneeling down and tilting his helmet so that he was staring Cobb in the face. “Alright, show me where it hurts”, he said. 

“You got a couple of hours?”, Cobb asked, placing his arms behind him and leaning back before instantly regretting it as he felt renewed pain in his wrist.

Mando didn’t respond, he merely looked at him before sighing and opening up his shirt with a few quick but sure movements of his fingers and gently pulling it off him. He felt a brief flash of heat come over him as he did it. And then a chill ran through him as the frigid night air hit his skin, and the thought that this was the first time Mando was seeing him without a shirt brought on desire and self-consciousness in equal measure. He knew he wasn't looking his best. It has been hours since he last washed and his skin was covered in dried blood, sweat, and sand. The evidence of his last bout was evident along his ribs and the rest of his torso, and the pain in his wrist and arms was nearly palpable. If Mando thought he looked a mess he said nothing about it. He merely looked over his body for any cuts or scrapes he had missed, his gloved fingers lightly stroking over bruises and feeling for broken bones. When he was done assessing the damage Mando gave him a look, one that even with his helmet on, clearly communicated that he wasn't happy about what he saw. Cobb couldn’t give him more than a weak shrug of his shoulders in response. Mando didn't lecture him as he thought he might, instead he began the slow task of bandaging him up and spraying every cut and abrasion with bacta spray. Cobb watched him as he worked, observing how he turned over his wrists with an astounding amount of tenderness so could he wrap them, and the way he placed his hand on his side as he sprayed the cuts that ran along his ribs. Cobb leaned back slightly to give him more room and for the first time since his arrival, he really allowed himself to take stock of what was happening. 

Mando was here. It wasn’t some heat-induced fantasy or flickering mirage, he was really here tending to his wounds. And doing a good job of it he thought with admiration as his helmet was tilted down in observation of a laceration that ran parallel to his belt. Without thinking he reached out his hand and placed it on Mando’s helmet. Mando slowly looked up at him, his hands ceasing their work for the moment as he silently watched him. They remained like that for several minutes before Cobb leaned in, ignoring the small jolt of pain that ran through his abdomen as he kissed the top of Mando’s helmet. When he pulled away Mando was watching him and he realized belatedly that he had never really stated any of the things he wanted to say when he arrived. As usual, there had been more pressing matters to attend to, people to fight, escapes to be made. But now there was something he had to say, even if Mando already knew it. He placed his hand on the side of his helm, while the other came to rest on his forearm. “Gotta admit, I missed you”, he confessed, before leaning in and kissing his helmet again.

Mando didn’t respond right away, it was something he had shockingly come to expect from the other man. But when he did, his voice was soft but resolute, “I feel the same.”

Cobb gave him a crooked smile, beyond himself with happiness at that simple confession. “Is that right?”, he asked, his voice low as his hand trailed down from his forearm and settled on his thigh.

“Yes”, Mando replied with a little more force behind his words, his hands moving so that one was on the back of his neck and the other laid along his hip. 

They remained there simply holding each other for several minutes before Cobb began to shiver in his hold and the cold finally forced them to part. Mando hastily went back to work and finally finished spraying and bandaging his wounds. By the time he had finished and Cobb had pulled his shirt back on, the suns had already set and the moons had risen to cast the dunes in an almost silver sheen. Clusters of stars had just begun to dot the sky as Mando finally built a fire and Cobb, whose pain was just now beginning to subside, helped him set up the tent. When their task was done Cobb dropped down into the sand, tired but content for the moment. Within the next minute, Mando had stashed his belongings back on his bike and had produced two small boxes of rations. Cobb accepted the food with a quick word of thanks and a slow brush of his fingers over Mando’s as he handed him the box. The Mandalorian, silent as ever, merely stared as Cobb gave him a knowing smile. There was a brief tilt of his head and he paused as if he were considering doing something but thought better of it and simply strode around the fire and took a seat across from him. Cobb began to eat and though most of the food was bland or not to his tastes he was just happy to have a meal in him. Though he did quickly notice that Mando had yet to touch his food, the box laid in his lap unopened, and his hands remained unmoving with his elbows propped on his knees. He remained that way for several minutes before Cobb finally spoke up, “Something wrong?”, he asked. 

Mando looked up at him sharply as if he had been deep in thought and only now was brought back to the matter at hand. Cobb could easily see that something was troubling the other man. He looked on edge, with his shoulders tensed and his hands clenching and unclenching as if he wished to be holding his blaster. There was a pregnant pause before Mando finally answered him and when he did his voice was quiet, “No…”, he trailed off, and for once he sounded completely uncertain. But he seemed to quickly recover as the tension left his shoulders and his hands began to move. They stopped right at the sides of his helmet and Cobb realized he was holding his breath. In the next instant, Mando had removed his helmet and set it on the ground.

Cobb felt all the air rush out of him. He was immediately transfixed. He had always assumed that the Mandalorian was hiding a handsome face underneath that helmet. Fantasized about it, spent long hours wondering what he might look like. Ultimately, he had come to the conclusion that it didn’t matter what he looked like, whether he was human or something else. This was the man he had come to care for. And even if he had never been privileged to see his face he would be content just to be with him. Maybe that’s why it felt like such a punch to the gut to see him now, for him to reveal himself so quickly and with barely a word. He wondered absently what brought this on, thought about all the stories he had heard about Mandalorians never removing their helmets. Though that all seemed to pale in the wake of the man who was sitting before him, watching him expectantly. He stepped forward, his food laid forgotten by his seat as he made his way around the fire and came to stand in front of the Mandalorian. He sunk down to his knees so that they were eye level and just took a moment to look him over. He really was gorgeous, just as he had suspected he would be. Mando was still watching him, not uttering a word though Cobb noticed that his brow was furrowed as if he were concerned. He was so expressive like this, though he supposed it was because he never had to hide what he was thinking, having worn a mask for most of his life. Though he also supposed that this whole thing might be making him uncomfortable, and perhaps Cobb simply looking at him without a word had him wondering if he even liked what he saw. 

He wished to banish any such idea, any notion that Cobb wasn’t thoroughly enraptured by this sudden but welcome gift. So without another thought he reached out and placed his hand along the hard line of his jaw. His thumb rasped over the stubble there and he admired the way those clear brown eyes fluttered closed and he let loose a soft huff as if he had been holding his breath. Mando’s hands were on him in the next instant, one flat and warm on his chest while the other took that same well-traveled route along the back of his neck and up and into his hair. Cobb’s hand traveled up, smoothing over tanned skin and cradling his cheek, while the other held the back of his head, his fingers threading through soft tousled hair. Mando let loose a soft sigh, his apparent worries banished as he felt his fingers tremble for a moment. 

Cobb paused, taking note of the brief shudder that worked through him. He supposed he was one of the few people to touch his face in years and with that knowledge came a new wave of admiration and understanding. He didn't want to take things too quickly so he took his hand out of his hair and cradled the other side of his face and gently nudged their foreheads together. Cobb reveled in the feel of warm skin against his own as he noticed that the last bit of tension had left Mando’s shoulders and the hands that had stilled began to move again. One hand trailed along his back while the other traveled down to the plane of Cobb’s stomach. He let out a groan as that same hand slid over his belt, his hip, and settled high on his thigh. He gently pulled out of Mando’s grip and he could see that the other man looked concerned. 

He refused to let him feel that way for long as he leaned back in, his hand on the side of his neck, and asked, “Any objections to me kissing you?” 

“No”, Mando said quietly, firmly. 

Cobb nodded, his mouth suddenly gone dry. He had expected shyness about this, but once again Mando had surprised him. The Mandalorian was looking him right in the eye, his chin tilted up almost defiantly. As if he were challenging him, daring him to do it. As usual, Cobb was more than willing to take the bait. So without another thought, he leaned in and kissed him. He had dreamt about this longer than he cared to admit but it was infinitely better than he would have imagined. He had expected Mando to be at a loss as to what to do. But it seemed that he was diving in just as fearlessly as he had with their dance, letting instinct and confidence take over for him where his experience was lacking. He was doing well, he thought. Subtly adjusting his head to deepen their kiss, his arms bracing Cobb’s biceps and pulling him closer so that he was straddling his lap. Cobb groaned as he did it, throwing his arms around his neck as he absently wondered if Mando had ever been kissed before. If he had ever used the darkness to his advantage and found a loophole in his dogmatic thinking and kissed someone. He wondered who they were, if they were someone he truly cared for or someone he had merely experimented with. He found himself unwilling, or perhaps unable to care as the Mandalorian pulled him closer. A bare hand slipped underneath his shirt, curious fingers stroking along his stomach while the other slid up his thigh. 

Cobb pulled away, breathing heavily. He opened his eyes to see that Mando looked to be just now recovering from their kiss, his cheeks flushed and his lips parted to take in several deep breaths. Cobb watched as Mando leaned forward, placing his forehead against his chest, the hand on his thigh moving up to his hip to steady him. Cobb felt his face go hot at the gesture, realizing where they could take things in this position. Realizing that certain feverish and often abated fantasies could finally be satisfied if they continued. He considered it for a moment but truly he didn't want anything they did to be done in a moment of haste, and certainly not in the sand. So instead he didn't try to encourage them to move further and Mando seemed to be content with that as he gently pulled Cobb in, kissing him again. Cobb was happy to oblige him, occupying his hands with pulling away part of the wrapping at his neck and slowly, gently breaking their kiss. Mando looked at him questioningly as Cobb gave him a slow smile before he moved back in and placed a kiss to the side of his throat. He heard Mando’s breathing hitch briefly before those same hands were running along his back. Cobb felt warm fingers spread over his pecs, run down his sides, and extend and rub over the lowest reach of his stomach. Cobb let out a huff through his nose at the contact, refusing to be outdone as he pressed his mouth more firmly to the column of the Mandalorian’s neck and sucked hard. 

Mando’s fingers stuttered as he did it, a low groan escaping his lips before he buried his face into the side of Cobb’s neck as if he were trying to silence himself. Cobb wanted to tell him not to. He wanted to tell him to let him hear more of that voice that had haunted his dreams for the past several weeks. But Mando was already pulling away, his hand caressing the side of Cobb’s face. “We should eat something”, he said finally, giving Cobb something close to a smile.

Cobb nodded, though he was far more tempted to pull Mando on top of him and simply allow him to do as he pleased. But he knew better. As usual, there were more pressing matters at hand. So with that thought in mind, he reluctantly got off Mando’s lap and went back to his seat and resumed his meal. He just barely registered the food as his attention was firmly focused on the Mandalorian. He ate quickly and efficiently, taking neat bites and seemingly savoring his food, even licking his fingers when he was done. Cobb felt his mouth go dry at the sight of it, imagining those lips and tongue on him again, running along the planes and curves of his body, laving over every inch of him. He cut those thoughts off quickly, all too familiar with where they were leading him. He promised himself that when they finally got through this and the town was safe once again they would have a proper time in his bed, with the sheets he had just purchased, and better food. 

After several more minutes, they both finally finished their rations, Mando being the first one to put his food down. Cobb watched him for a moment, still in mild disbelief that the thing he had been wishing for, for the past few weeks had finally come true. He wanted to pick up where they had left off, pull him into their threadbare tent, strip off his armor, and kiss him until he had run out of breath. But considering their mission tomorrow he knew it would probably be for the best if they tried to get some rest. With that, he closed the empty ration box and watched with some remorse as Mando put his helmet back on. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”, he asked suddenly, their current task once again weighing heavily on his mind.

Mando didn’t answer right away, he set the box at his feet and seemed to take a moment to collect his thoughts. “They have guards posted at each building. From what I can tell they’re collecting credits until there’s nothing left. After that, it looks like they’re going to start taking people.”

“Like hell they are”, Cobb said, truly angry now. 

“Don't worry, we’ll take care of it. We’ll come in fast on speeders-”

“It won’t work, they'll see us coming.” 

“That’s why I’ll set off a blast at one end of the village. You come from the opposite direction while they deal with me and take out as many of them as you can. I’ll do the same until we only have their leader to deal with.” 

“Sounds simple enough”, Cobb said “But it probably won't be the only attack headed our way now.”

“Probably not”, Mando agreed, his tone surprisingly solemn. Abruptly, he got up from his seat and grabbed his pack, “We should get some rest. I’ll set up the bedrolls”, he said, and then retreated into the tent without another word. Cobb wasn’t really put off by the sudden nature of his departure, he thought perhaps it was just another quirk of his character. He remained where he was sitting a moment longer, his eyes trained on the fire and his thoughts focused on the town. If he was being honest with himself, and he felt like he rarely was these days, he wanted to ask Mando to stay. Not because he thought he would need help defending the town, although these days that was a very real concern. But because the thought of having to watch him leave again was too much to bear.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his hand briefly brushing over several small scrapes that were just now beginning to heal and running through a fine layer of dust. He could still feel the Mandalorian’s lips on his, still see those deep brown eyes flutter closed as he leaned in. He ran his fingers through his hair letting out a long sigh. He knew he would be asking for a lot. Trading a life amongst the stars for one on a dust ball seemed needlessly unfair. But he could see it all so clearly, the two of them defending the town together, sharing his bed at the end of the day, slowly building a life for themselves that extended beyond his duty to Mos Pelgo and could eventually even take them off-planet. It was a nice dream, one that he had had many times, and one that he wasn’t sure would ever come to pass. But he endeavored at the very least to ask Mando about it when their mission was complete. 

He rose from his seat, fatigue finally setting in as he kneeled down and crawled into the tent. Mando was there sitting on his bedroll, his helmet tilted forward and onto his forearms while his elbows were propped on his knees. Cobb paused, taking him in for a moment. He looked tired, and rightfully so considering the day they had. But it felt like more than that. The slump of his shoulders, the downward tilt of his helmet, the way his hands were tightly clasped together, it all spoke to something more than just simple fatigue taking its toll. Cobb took a seat next to him, tempted to reach out and touch him but thought better of it. “Hey, you doing alright?”, he asked after the silence had stretched on for several more minutes as if Mando wasn’t aware he entered the tent or even asked the question.

The Mandalorian looked up, his t-visor focused on him as he remained quiet for another minute. When he did speak he noticed his voice sounded hoarse. “I’m not sure”, he said finally.

Cobb nodded though he couldn’t be sure what was causing the other man’s distress. Perhaps it simply was weariness from the day's events that was getting to him but something about it didn’t sit right with him. He didn’t press him for details and after several more minutes passed in silence, he decided to try to sway the conversation somewhere more pleasant. “Have to admit you surprised me. Wasn’t expecting you to be such a good kisser”, he said amicably.

Mando’s helmet tilted to the side as if he were contemplating him a little more closely now, “Why is that?”, he asked pointedly.

“Mostly because of this”, he said, gently patting the side of his helmet. “Not many opportunities to kiss someone when they’re always wearing a helmet.”

Surprisingly, some of the tension he had previously noticed in Mando’s shoulders had abruptly returned at his words and Cobb thought perhaps he’d offended him somehow. He was just about to move forward with an apology but Mando spoke first, his words quiet and his tone measured, “A couple weeks ago I wouldn’t have done what I did tonight.”

Cobb was puzzled for a moment before he asked, “Taking off your helmet?” Mando nodded and Cobb thought he was beginning to slowly understand what was happening. All the stories he had ever heard said that Mandalorians never took off their helmets. He wasn’t sure if it was a religious edict or it served a more utilitarian purpose, but either way, it was important. And if Mando was willing to remove it, even if only for a short time and in front of one person, then that must mean something drastic had changed for him. “What changed?”, he asked, not really expecting a response.

But once again Mando surprised him and very readily answered, “The kid.”

Cobb nodded, his mouth twisted into a frown. He didn’t expect Mando to elaborate but he thought in his own way he could begin to piece together some semblance of his journey. The child was wanted by the imps and that would entail fighting tooth and nail to keep him safe, doing whatever it took to get him back should he be taken away. And that might mean breaking the rules, even the ones he had set for himself. Even if they were at one point the most important thing to him. He wanted to ask him what exactly had happened. If he had in fact broken those rules and that’s why he was slowly testing the waters, realizing that perhaps he could still live within his creed but with less rigidity than before. But he found himself asking a different question, one that had been on his mind since his arrival. “Where is the little guy?”

Mando went rigid next to him and Cobb wondered if he should even continue talking. So far he had done nothing but make the other man uncomfortable. But Mando seemed to recover, sitting up a little straighter than he had. But his voice was lower than usual and had once again gone hoarse. “He’s with his kind now”, he said, and Cobb noted that it seemed like it took a monumental effort for him to speak those words. Considering their bond, he supposed it was a monumental effort for them to be apart.

“So you found them”, Cobb stated.

“Yes.”

He went silent, truly feeling the weight of what that meant. He knew that was his mission in the first place. To reunite the little one with one of his kind, to see that he was somewhere safe. But he also knew the strength of the bond they shared, saw how much Mando cared for the baby, how tender he was with him. “You holding up ok?”, he asked, placing a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension stored there.

Mando was silent for a long time. So long that he was tempted to repeat the question, but when he finally did speak his voice was so quiet he could barely hear him, “I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry”, Cobb said, and he meant it. He couldn't imagine what he must be feeling. But he thought he was beginning to get some inkling as Mando let out a long and very weary-sounding sigh that shuddered right at the end as if he were fighting very hard to keep himself from sobbing. 

Mando didn’t respond, he merely placed his hand over Cobb’s for a moment, his thumb absently running over his knuckles and along his fingers before he pulled himself out of Cobb’s grasp with one slow measured movement and got to his feet. “I should put the fire out”, he said quietly, making for the flap of the tent. 

Cobb didn’t let him get far, catching his wrist and pulling him back. Mando allowed it without any complaint, settling down next to him before Cobb pulled him over and into his arms, holding him as tightly as he could. Mando was still rigid in his grasp, barely moving, hardly breathing. But when he did he let out another shuddering breath, and this one sounded wet with barely repressed tears. In the next instant he felt strong arms wrap around him and he placed a hand on the back of his helmet. If Mando was crying he was doing so silently, no part of him was moving, save for his hands which gripped the back of Cobb’s shirt so tightly he thought it might rip. He found himself unable to care about that as he continued to hold him, one hand cradling the back of his head while the other stroked along his side. He only paused the motion long enough to move his hands and place them on either side of his helmet. Mando pulled away, just far enough so he could place his hands on Cobb’s wrists. But where he had expected Mando to hold on or even push his hands away he slowly and deliberately moved them so that he was helping Cobb remove his helmet. Despite the fact this was the second time he was bearing his face to him, Cobb felt beyond privileged. And then perhaps even more so that Mando was allowing him to be here, to see him through this difficult time, and to look into his eyes that had gone glassy with unshed tears. One lone tear did roll down his cheek and Cobb quickly brushed it away with his thumb, still taken aback by how soft the other man’s skin was. Mando’s eyes slipped closed as he did it and he let loose a long sigh, one that seemed to speak to a months worth of exhaustion finally making itself known. He couldn’t begin to fathom what that loss felt like. Nor did he begin to think he understood the full depth of his pain. But he knew he could clearly see it in every line on his face, in the downward tilt of his head, in the way the corners of his eyes were still wet with tears. 

Cobb had never had anyone to comfort him in these moments. No matter how dark his despair, or how deep the pit, he always had to be the one to crawl his way out of it. There was strength in that, but there were also times where pain was simply that. And there was no growing from it, no strength to be found in it. He felt like this was one of those times. And though he wasn’t foolish enough to think some simple phrase and an embrace in the dark would be enough to undo weeks of grief, he could at the very least offer Mando his shoulder. He pulled him a little closer until Mando’s chin was propped on his shoulder and there was no space left between them. Mando slowly put his arms around him, one hand cradling the back of his head while the other settled at his waist. Cobb finally spoke again, his tone firm and sincere. “That was a selfless thing you did for the little guy, letting him go like that. You don’t see love like that very often. Wherever he is he knows how much you care about him. And it’s only a matter of time before you see him again.”

For a moment there was nothing but silence throughout their meager tent. Cobb wondered if Mando had heard him, or if his fairly abrupt monologue had done anything to ease some of his sorrow. But it seemed that he had made some kind of impact because within the next minute he could feel Mando nod his head against his shoulder and when they finally pulled apart he could see some of the tension had left his shoulders and his eyes were dry. Mando placed his hands on his shoulders before one moved to cradle the side of his neck. Warm fingers stroked along the side of his throat before he took Mando by the wrist and pulled his hand to his mouth, closing his eyes as he kissed his palm. When he opened them again it was to see Mando watching him with the most intense expression on his face, one that had him feeling flush. 

Before he could consider it for longer Mando was moving forward, gently nudging their foreheads together. He let out a long breath, one that didn’t sound nearly as exhausted as before, and gently pulled Cobb down with him so that they were laying down in the sand, facing each other. Mando pulled him closer until they were firmly pressed together and he felt the sudden chill of beskar. But he was willing to bear it. He realized he was willing to bear a lot of things if it meant he could stay by his side. If it meant he could see the beginnings of something like a smile on his face and hear him give a contented sigh despite all that had happened. Cobb placed his hand on his hip, his fingers stroking along his side as Mando loosed another sigh and appeared to be making himself more comfortable. “Thank you”, Mando said suddenly, quietly, as he placed a hand on his arm. There was a wealth of emotion in that simple phrase. Warmth and admiration, pain and longing, and most of all, bone-deep gratitude. He could hear it all so clearly that he didn't need to ask exactly what he was thanking him for. He thought about thanking him again too, for rescuing him, for tending to his wounds, numerous as they were. But most pressing of all, for helping to banish away the loneliness that had seized hold of him even before he first arrived. But all the phrases he could conjure up, all the words he wished to speak seemed to pale in the wake of what he had already done. So he merely laid a kiss on his forehead and before long they had both drifted off to sleep. 

\---------

When Cobb awoke it was to the sound of soft snoring and a pair of arms firmly wrapped around his waist. He looked over his shoulder to see that apparently during the night the Mandalorian had taken it upon himself to not only put out the fire, but also organize a more comfortable sleeping arrangement for them. Which consisted of them pressed together with Mando sleeping behind him, and with his lips mere inches from the back of his neck. Cobb let out a contented sigh, he had dreamt about this so many times. For it to actually be happening felt almost too good to be true. Though it didn’t take long to realize they were both firmly rooted in reality and not some heat induced fever dream as he took one of Mando’s hands, happy to see that he still had his gloves off, and brought his palm to his lips. He kissed his palm several times before turning it over and sliding his mouth along his fingers, giving each one a level of attention that he wished he could focus elsewhere. He heard Mando’s breathing hitch as he continued moving his lips along the jut and curves of his knuckles, and he felt Mando’s other hand placed almost possessively on the lowest reach of his stomach.

“We need to get moving”, Mando said, though he sounded breathless and he had yet to make any moves that suggested he was getting up. Cobb didn't answer, he merely smiled before licking along the pad of his fingers and then sucking in between his thumb and forefinger. Mando let out a huff that resembled more of an aborted groan before he said, “You’re not playing fair.”

“Who said I had to?”, he asked, his smile never once faltering.

Mando didn’t reply. Instead, within the next moment Cobb found himself swiftly rolled over so that he was laying on his back and Mando was straddling him, his hand firmly wrapped around his wrist. “I do”, he said.

Cobb felt a good deal of the air rush out of him with the other man so close. He felt off kilter in a way he hadn’t since Mando first walked into the cantina and he was tempted to relay to him all the bright mornings and cold nights he had endured since his departure. All the times where he wished for his warmth, for his presence next to him. There was even a cruel and selfish part of him that wished that they didn’t have to leave the relative safety of their tent. That somehow the town would be fine even if he decided to not return right away, if at all. But he knew he would never feel right about that. And despite everything that had happened, the beatings, and the isolation that only seemed to grow worse with each weeks passing, he knew what he had to do, what he wanted to do. Before he could say anything or even move Mando had leaned down, gently pressing their foreheads together and then kissed him deeply. Cobb barely had time to register the gesture before Mando had rolled off of him and had pulled his helmet back on. He got to his feet quickly then, pulling on his gloves and holding his hand out to him. “We should go”, he said, amicably as Cobb slowly sat up, blowing out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding and shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He then took his hand and Mando easily pulled him to his feet. 

Cobb took the next moment to brush the sand and dust off of him, feeling at once contented and mildly put out that the other man had so easily riled him up yet seemed to be unaffected by it all. “You talk about me not playing fair”, he huffed with not much heat behind it, still shaking the sand out of his shirt. Mando watched him do it, his helmet tilted to one side before he stepped forward and placed his hand on the back of Cobb’s neck. Cobb gave him a questioning look before Mando leaned in and nudged their foreheads together and then slowly retreated towards the entrance of the tent. Cobb ignored the sudden heat in his face to call out after him, “Don’t think you’re getting off the hook that easy.”

Mando merely looked back over his shoulder, and he was sure had he not been wearing his helmet he would’ve seen a smirk spread across the man’s face. Instead, he merely contemplated him for a moment before he said, “Sure”, in a manner that clearly said he thought he was getting away with it and that he dared Cobb to do something about it. Cobb felt a little more heat return to his face as he watched Mando jerk his head towards the outside and then quickly made his exit. Cobb let out another huff, frustrated and enticed all in the same moment and quickly followed on the other man’s heels. He squinted his eyes as he exited the tent, the suns were already high in the sky and the heat of midday was just beginning to grow insufferable. Mando quickly began to disassemble the tent, packing up their supplies, and setting out some small rations for him before stowing away his things in the pack on his bike. 

Cobb watched him while he ate, his thoughts drifting back to how he had looked the other night, his features cast in light and shadow from the low burning fire. He imagined the hint of a smile that had been at just the corner of his mouth, how he had kissed him with all the force and passion he had felt for weeks. He thought of how he had looked at him questioningly, or the unshed tears at the corners of his eyes. He had already come to like the way his hair curled over his ears and how his fingers rasped over the stubble at the line of his jaw. Adored those dark brown eyes and the jut and curve of his nose. He wanted to see every emotion he possibly could written across that handsome face. He wanted to see him happy and relaxed. But perhaps most of all, even knowing what a strong and capable warrior he was, he wanted to keep him safe. Maybe that was simply instinct, a habit picked up from being the protector of Mos Pelgo for so long. But he thought he deserved someone to care for him, now more than ever, and he wanted to be the one to do it. As usual, he wanted a lot of things. In fact, it seemed like his list of desires was only growing longer as time went on. Though, perhaps this time he might have the chance to get some of it.

He was broken out of his reverie by the sound of the speeder bike abruptly revving to life and the realization that he had completely stopped eating in favor of pursuing his thoughts of Mando. When he refocused his attention he saw that Mando had completely finished disassembling their makeshift campsite and was currently sitting astride the speeder bike, watching him. “You’re ready to go”, he stated, with something close to amusement in his voice. Cobb felt that familiar warmth he had experienced back in the tent wash over him as he stuffed the remainder of the ration bar in his mouth with as much dignity as he could muster and quickly swallowed it down. He rapidly brushed his hands together, letting the stray crumbs fall to the dirt before striding over and taking his seat behind him. He wasted no time in placing his hands on his shoulders and without another word they had peeled away from their campsite and sped off towards the town.

The journey back to Mos Pelgo passed by fairly quickly with hardly a word between them. He thought perhaps Mando’s thoughts were centered on the previous night, on how the loss of his kid was still raw in his mind. But surprisingly the silence between them felt comfortable and oddly relaxed and Cobb didn’t think to fill it with words. So he let the endless stretches of sand quickly slip by and before long they had made their way to Mos Eisley. They made a stop there, just long enough to pick up a second speeder bike and before long had raced out of the infamous spaceport and towards their destination.

By the time they arrived near Mos Pelgo the suns were just beginning to get low in the sky. They stopped just short of town, settling themselves behind an outcropping of rocks and overgrown shrubbery that hid the sandy dens of womp rats. He and Mando ran through the plan once more, though Cobb insisted once the other thugs were dealt with he wanted to be the one to dispatch their leader. Mando didn’t question it, sensing that perhaps it was a matter of pride for him, and simply nodded as he removed several blast charges from his belt. There was a shared moment of silence between them then, one that was charged with familiarity and admiration and the adrenaline that preceded a fight. It was only broken when Mando, who until that point had been giving Cobb a considering look from underneath his helmet, came forward and pressed their foreheads together. Cobb’s eyes slipped closed of their own volition before he let loose a heavy sigh and leaned into his touch. One hand came to rest on his chest plate while the other held onto his arm, his thumb absently running over the handkerchief he had gifted him. He noticed it was just as pristine as the man’s armor, perhaps a little frayed but still well taken care of. Without thinking and spurred on by a sudden swell of emotion in the face of what he knew would not be an easy fight he leaned in and kissed it. “Glad to see you still have it”, he said, a small smile spreading across his face. 

“I never took it off”, Mando said firmly, almost reverently, and Cobb felt more than a little moved by the sentiment. And then even more so as he watched as Mando put his hand to it as if feeling it for luck. He then leaned in again, pressing their foreheads together once more before getting back on his speeder and hurtling off towards the town. Cobb remained by the rocks, silently counting the minutes until he heard the blasts go off and he could ride over. He waited and kept his eyes trained on the far end of the village, ready at a moment's notice to spring into action. Until, finally, he saw the first blast go off and the huge plume of dust that blew over Mos Pelgo in its wake. Within the next instant, he rocketed forward, pulling out his blaster and entering the town. The guards had descended into a frenzy, each one of them yelling panicked orders at each other as he heard the sound of Mando’s blaster going off just beyond the dust cloud. He was thankful for the cover he had created as he easily slipped in amidst the chaos and began to take out the guards as quickly as possible. 

He was only less than halfway down the road before the invaders seemed to catch on and actually began to fire back. Cobb ducked his head, keeping himself as low as he could before he noticed that five men on speeder bikes were darting after him just as the dust was beginning to clear. He could see Mando just ahead of him, standing amidst the haze with a man dropped at his feet and several others scattered around him. He looked up, engaging his jetpack and flying out of the way as Cobb twisted around and fired three quick shots. Two hit his pursuers square in the chest, knocking them off their bikes, while the other grazed another man’s arm and the fourth thug fired at him. The shot connected with his shoulder and he cursed loudly as he nearly dropped his blaster. He grit his teeth through the pain as he managed to keep the bike steady and fired two shots over his shoulder. He was sure one had hit its mark as he heard a cry cut short and a thud following soon after. He peered behind him to see that there was only one man behind him and quickly looked around for the other. He didn’t have to look long because the other man suddenly appeared in front of him, having obviously taken an alley and cutting across his path. The man leveled his blaster right at his head and Cobb dove off the bike, rolling as he heard the man let out a shout as the bike collided with him. He felt mildly dazed as he rolled to his feet and got his blaster back in hand only to see that the last thug was only a foot away and had his gun trained on him. Cobb didn’t have time to even think about moving because in the next instant the man was falling backwards, a blaster bolt hitting him in the head from above. Cobb felt relief and confusion take him over in equal measure as he looked for the source of the shot and saw Mando standing atop one of the buildings. He gave him a slow smile before he heard the sound of a speeder quickly approaching. He looked to the roof where Mando had been to see that he had disappeared and instead focused his attention on the other side of the road. 

In the next instant, the speeder had entered the town and he saw that it was the same manic eyed man who had knocked him out. He quickly surveyed the carnage before getting off his speeder with his blaster in hand. “Looks like you're doing better than last time marshal”, he said with something like amusement in his voice. Cobb didn’t think to respond, he was tired of these chatty thugs who felt more like monologing than getting the job done. The other man walked a little closer, that same crazed look in his eyes though his tone was calm as he said, “Do you really think this is gonna end with us?”

“Doesn’t matter if it ends with you or someone else. But it is gonna end one way or another”, Cobb said, as he squared up for what he knew was going to be a shoot-out. Just as he thought it, it happened, and the other man fired first just as Cobb managed to dive out of the way. He ducked behind the nearest building, already annoyed that he let the other man get the drop on him and noticing quickly that plaster and stone were swiftly being chipped away by blaster fire. He could barely poke his head out to fire a shot and instead turned and ran down the alley. He could hear the blaster fire approaching with startling clarity and as he reached the end of the alley he could just see a gleam of beskar a few roofs over. He jogged over, positioning himself so that Mando could see him from his vantage point, and waved his hand. Mando’s head snapped over to where he was, and Cobb pointed at his belt where he kept his blast charges. Mando seemed to catch on because in the next instant he tossed one down and Cobb easily caught it. He then ran around the back of the buildings and circled back to the main road, the other man had just reached the alley he had run down as Cobb threw the blast charge into the middle of the road. He heard the man shout in surprise as he charged into the dust cloud that had sprung up and fired. The other man whipped around just a second too late and Cobb’s bolt hit its mark in his chest and he fell to the sand with a muffled thud.

Cobb let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding and holstered his blaster. He surveyed the wreckage of several buildings and bodies that needed to be buried but considering everything they had come out of this relatively unscathed. Mando found his place next to him in the following moment, jetting off the roof and landing softly beside him. "Nice shot”, Mando said, an appreciative tone in his voice. 

Cobb was more than a little tempted to preen at that simple praise but before he could he saw several of the townsfolk begin to poke their heads out of their houses. He watched as they surveyed the damage, their eyes looking over the bodies that littered the road and the dust that was just beginning to settle. Within the next moment, they had all rushed into the road and had surrounded him and Mando, congratulating them and thanking them for their good work. Cobb was tempted to let them continue with their praise and cheers of appreciation but he knew he had to give the report on the mining crew, sad as it was. He easily halted the crowd with a wave of his hand and began to address the townsfolk with the bad news. As expected a solemn hush fell over the crowd and a good deal of tears were shed before a litany of calls for retribution were shouted out. Once again Cobb halted the noise with a hand and a shout and tried to direct the focus of the townsfolk on something more productive like cleaning up the town. Once that was dealt with they could speak all they wanted of restitution. With that decided upon they took a moment of silence for their fallen and then slowly began to clean up the road and fix the blaster marked and damaged buildings. 

It was only as they had begun to make some progress on fixing things up and he could start to see some of the sadness and fatigue leave the faces of his friends and neighbors that he started to feel a bit better about things. And as several people came up throughout the duration of the work to thank him he finally had to point out that Mando also had a hand in liberating their town. Immediately the townsfolk focused their attention on the Mandalorian, who once again looked to be completely out of his depth as several people tried to shake his hand. And he watched with a barely restrained smile on his face as a good number of them tried to offer him gifts to show their gratitude. He politely turned them down and as he did his head tilted up, his gaze focused on Cobb as if he were hoping he would help him out of this situation. Cobb gave him a slow smile before shrugging his shoulders and letting him stew in it a moment longer before he announced that they really should get back to work. Everyone quickly agreed and as he refocused his efforts on patching the walls of Myla’s house he felt someone briefly squeeze his hip. He looked around only to see the back of Mando’s helmet as he retreated down the road and he thought perhaps he wasn’t going to get away with that small and admittedly harmless stunt. He pulled his thoughts away from Mando and all the enticing ways he might get back at him later by focusing on the damaged buildings in front of him and the requests people were already making about more supplies to continue their clean-up. 

Before long they had managed to clear the road and fix the damage to the buildings and after several more hours of work, it was as if it had never happened. But even with the threat dealt with for the moment and the look of relief on the townsfolk’s faces he couldn’t help but also notice the concern and general feel of exhaustion that permeated the settlement. He frowned, his thoughts turning to possible retaliations and the very real threat of other groups in the area seeking some place to call their stronghold. Honestly, he didn’t know what he would do if any of that happened. He had just barely been able to hold them off before Mando showed up and he could only imagine what would happen if they truly decided to get serious. Once again he thought about asking Mando to stay for a while, not only for more selfish reasons but also to help him get things back on track. Though he realized now probably wasn’t the right time as he saw that the suns were just starting to set and all his friends and neighbors began to pile into the cantina. He hadn’t seen much of Mando throughout the duration of the cleanup. He had noticed a gleam in his peripheral at times and had seen him help repair a punctured and leaking vaporator, but beyond that, they hadn’t much interaction since he had flown off into town. There was nothing for it, there always seemed to be something to do, some task that seemed determined to pull them away from each other. He let loose a short sigh before he looked up and spotted Mando standing over by the bar. He quickly sidled up next to him and gave him a slow smile before they retreated to the back of the bar. And though he could see people were still tired from the past several week's attacks it looked as if everyone was beginning to enjoy themselves again. He was happy to see it and though he didn’t think he was going to get the chance to dance with Mando again he was happy to be sitting at a table with him, quietly nursing his drink with enough food laid out for the both of them. Though he noticed that Mando had yet to touch anything and he hadn’t even taken one sip from his drink. He swallowed down his spotchka, thinking that perhaps he may be content to take his helmet off in front of people he cared for, but not the masses yet. He could respect that, it only made sense that it would be an adjustment to have it off around a crowd, and he wasn't about to push him. 

Instead, he sat with him a little longer before finishing his drink and looking to Mando who must’ve sensed he was ready to go because he easily rose from the table and walked alongside him as Cobb began to make his way out of the bar. He announced that he was going to head out early and uttered a quick goodnight to them all. Valiantly ignoring the several patrons who shot him coy glances and told him to have a good night in suggestive tones. He waved them off as he finally made his way out into the open air and began the quick trek back to his house with Mando by his side.

They arrived at his house fairly quickly, his thoughts drifting back to the last time they were here together. He remembered the uncertainty he had felt, the questions he had regarding Mando’s feelings as well as his own. He was thankful that at the very least he knew what the other man felt for him but admittedly he was still unsure of what the future held for them. His mouth twisted into a frown as he opened the door and turned on the lights and ushered Mando inside. “Make yourself comfortable”, he told him as Mando walked next to him and put a warm hand on his elbow.

“Your shoulder”, he said simply and for a moment Cobb had completely forgotten about the bolt he had taken during that brawl earlier. Before he could respond Mando wordlessly walked ahead of him, through the kitchen, and disappeared down the hall. When he returned he had the bacta spray and bandages in his hand and Cobb had to admit he felt at a loss for words as Mando placed the supplies on the table and looked at him expectantly. Cobb didn’t think to argue as he shut the door behind him and strode over and quietly took a seat. He felt warm fingers stroke along the back of his neck and travel down to his right shoulder. He gave only a mild wince at the contact before he opened his shirt and shrugged it off. With the utmost care, Mando placed his hand on his shoulder again and sprayed it several times before bandaging him up. 

Before he could pull away Cobb caught his hand and kissed it once before letting him go and allowing him to take a seat. Mando sat across from him, placing his gloves on the table while Cobb occupied himself with finding something to eat in the kitchen. “You hungry?”, he asked, just now realizing the other man hadn’t eaten this morning before they began their journey.

“Yes, thank you”, Mando answered.

He nodded before he began to rummage around the cupboards and the only slightly battered cold box for something he could quickly throw together. In the next few minutes he found some bantha steaks that still looked good, several ootoowergs he had just purchased at the market, and some bread that seemed to be made of more grains, nuts, and seeds than flour. “You have any preferences?”, he asked. 

“No”, Mando answered amicably. 

Cobb smiled as he began to remove the steaks from their packaging. He thought perhaps Mando was one of those people who would eat whatever was put in front of him as long as it was hot. Considering his profession and his long stints in space he imagined he probably hasn’t had a nice dinner in awhile.

Mando watched as he gathered two small pans and a knife and began to cook the meat before he spoke up again. “Do you need help?”, he asked suddenly. Cobb turned to stare at him, fervently hoping that he didn’t look too startled by the offer. “You look surprised”, Mando commented, and though he didn’t sound offended he noted that there was an almost accusatory edge to his voice.

“Have to admit I am. I wouldn't have pegged you as being able to cook”, he said, wiping his hands on the only clean dish towel by the sink. 

“I spend a lot of my time traveling”, Mando replied, apparently in lieu of an explanation for his culinary skills.

“A lot of people do, doesn't mean they can cook.”

Mando just sighed as if put out by the entire thread of the conversation and slowly rose from the table. He came over to the sink, quickly washed his hands, and took the ootoowergs from the small basket they were in. He washed them with a cursory spray of water, set them on the counter, and expertly peeled, and cored them. Cobb watched with begrudging astonishment as he then proceeded to chop the vegetables and though the pieces were slightly uneven he couldn’t help but feel a bit impressed. Mando turned back to him, his helmet slowly tilting to one side as if challenging him to say something about his skills. He held his hands up in mock surrender before Mando handed him the knife and he scooped everything into the pan. “Nice job”, he told him.

“I know”, Mando replied, and Cobb found the confidence disarmingly attractive, and he began to wonder what other hidden abilities Mando had that he had yet to discover. Though he didn’t have long to think on that before he realized that the steaks were about to burn. Mando swiftly came over, turning the heat down and in the next instant had somehow commandeered the preparation of dinner so that Cobb was regulated to watching him from the table. He would’ve felt more annoyed by it if not for the fact that the idea of Mando cooking for him was endearing as well as infinitely appealing.

Before long the kitchen had the distinct aroma of spices and perfectly cooked bantha filets and the ootoowergs Mando had chopped were covered in a sauce that he said reminded him of what they used to make at his old covert. Cobb silently noted the air of wistfulness in his voice as he said it, as well as the quickly cut-off note of sadness. He thought perhaps there was more of a story there but at the moment didn’t want to press him for details. So instead they sat down to dinner and he let loose a bit of a huff as Mando handed him his plate. “I was supposed to cook for you”, he said, though there was very little heat behind his words as his stomach growled. 

Mando merely considered him for a moment before he replied, “Next time.”

Cobb, who had just been about to dig into his food, placed his fork back on the table and gave Mando a questioning look. “I’ve been wondering about that”, he said, thinking perhaps this was the best time to bring up what had been weighing so heavily on his mind since his return. Mando paused, placing his plate on the table and watching him expectantly. Cobb let loose a quiet huff, trying desperately to gather his thoughts. When he finally did his words came slowly as if he were trying hard to find the best way to phrase this. “About where you and I go from here. The town’s safe, you got me back here”, he trailed off, not sure how to ask this. It wasn’t pride that stopped him but the more the fact that it seemed an unfair trade. Mando had his own life, even if the kid was absent from it for the moment. He didn’t question his feelings, he knew what they were, perhaps even more clearly than before. But he still felt a certain level of apprehension at asking him to abandon all that he knew just to stay with him. 

Cobb let loose another breath through his nose before running his hand through his hair. He grit his teeth, ready to finally ask the question that had been plaguing him since he left, but before he could Mando spoke again. “I’d like to stay”, he said quietly, firmly.

Cobb’s mouth went dry, and once again he felt as if the breath had been stolen from him as he gazed at Mando with what he was sure had to be a look of surprise. “What?”, he asked. 

“I want to stay”, he repeated a little louder now, reaching across the table and grasping Cobb’s hand. “The kid is training”, he said, and Cobb could hear the quickly abated note of sadness in his voice before he valiantly continued. “And business is slow. I want to stay.” 

Cobb remained silent for several minutes before Mando’s words seemed to really take hold of him. And then it seemed as if all those previously fretted over and unanswered questions were suddenly clarified, and his future was sharply brought into focus. Of course, he still had concerns. About the town’s safety, and just how long they could both stand to remain in the desert before wanderlust drove them elsewhere. But those were worries for another day. He took Mando by the hand and laid a kiss along the lines of his fingers before giving him a crooked smile, his thoughts happily centered on what could be in store for them. “Think you won’t get bored?”, he asked, kissing his hand again.

“Probably not”, Mando answered, his tone warm and contented. 

“You say that now”, Cobb said with a smile before leaning across the table and kissing the side of his helmet.

“I guess we’ll see”, Mando replied amicably as Cobb kissed him again, their meal, for the moment, forgotten on the table.


End file.
